Fragments
by bobbymcfoogle
Summary: A journey through Time and Space - specifically the Time and Space of Doctor Who. Basically, a collection of drabbles from my warped and overly analytical mind. Enjoy!
1. One

**I write so many one-shots that I have decided to have a place to collect them, so they're not just floating around. I may have re-"published" some here, so bear with me! But fear not, I'll delete them once they're here.**

**The repeated ones'll have old reviews at the bottom. **

**Sooo ... come and join me on a journey through all things Doctor Who. One-shots, poems, what ifs - it's all there. But maybe not poems. Just yet.**

**ENJOY! And review.**

**Disclaimer: I do not, nor will I ever, own Doctor Who. Much as I wish. But maybe in the future ... no. Really no.**

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**The universally recognized colour for danger: Mauve**

The Doctor was surprised that humans recognised red as danger when he thought about all the different types of red, everything they represented.

Scarlett.

Burgundy.

Carmine.

Cerise.

Blush.

Rose.

How could red ever mean danger when she was around?

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	2. Two

**A/N: I always kind of neglect series 3 ... so this is my little gesture to it! I hope there'll be more to come. **

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The Year That Never Was

During the Year That Never Was, he had a lot of time to think. Time to think about how he got here, if they'd ever be able to leave. Time to get introspective.

He found it easier to fill up the seemingly endless hours inside that cage just by thinking.

He thought of his companions, of the events and people that had led him here. Not just in the immediate time leading up to it, but in the grand scheme of things.

Susan, Ian, Barbara … Peri, Tegan, Sarah Jane, Ace. Grace and Donna. Astrid.

He thought sometimes of Rose. Of how she was doing in Pete's World, if she ever still thought of him. He wondered what she'd say if she could see him now, shrivelled up and ancient. He was glad that she couldn't.

His mind often wandered to Martha, to her roaming the continents, delivering the mantra. To Jack, chained up and alone, repeatedly dying like Prometheus for stealing fire. Just for trying to help people, trying to help him. They all were.

When he really thought about Boe's words - "You Are Not Alone" - the Doctor realised he wasn't just talking about Time Lords.

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	3. Three

**A/N: As horrible and contrived as it sounds, I got the idea of this from a _dream_. I know, it makes me want to vomit as well. Review at the end!**

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**Forever**

He'd taken her to the planet Karakao, home to landscapes so spectacular it was said that some had fainted at the sight of them.

Gazing out over the golden, rocky landscape scattered with pterodactyl-like creatures flitting between arcs and peaks, Rose breathed a deep sigh of release.

"I love this."

"Me too. It's so beautiful!"

She looked at him and smiled, almost sorrowfully. "Not just this," she gestured the scene in front of them, "_this_. I wish it could never end."

The Doctor looked down at his feet. He knew how things were likely to turn out, knew she was human and that all humans had to pass. No one knew that better than a Time Lord.

"How long are you going to stay with me?"

She looked at him and a beat passed. "Forever."

They both grinned and he took her hand. At least he could hope.

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Previous Reviews:

**That Kid's Lost:** That was wonderful! It's too bad their story ended the way it did. Rose could never be an Earth-bound kind of person, even with a human-doctor to hold her back.

**KatieChan:** This was good could you write a sequel to bad wolf bay scene about the baby you wrote earlier please.

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	4. Four

**A/N: I miss Nine. And Rose should have, too.

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Run!

She couldn't get over this new Doctor … this new, wiry, energetic boy of a man who was manically running around the place, flicking switches and talking at a thousand miles an hour. Sure, he was good looking, that was the first thing that had struck her – but Rose was sceptical. How could his voice change as well? Not just the accent – even though it was a shock to hear his Northern, craggy tones elevated to an almost middle class, southern drawl – but the way his mannerisms and turns of phrase had altered altogether. He was so … dry. And she didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing.

She looked at him, hard.

"Rose, I promise, it's _me._"

His eyes pierced her thoughts - brown eyes, not blue. Not anymore.

"Remember what I said to you, the day we first met?

Rose thought, hard. Of course she could remember. _Run_. They hadn't stopped running since.

_Here I am, swannin' off. I came first in Jiggery Pokery. You look beautiful! For a human. I love a happy medium! I don't know about Hitler, but you scare the living daylights out of me! Raxacoricofallapatorius. Dogs with no noses! You were fantastic, absolutely fantastic. _

Well, until now they hadn't.

"Run!"

But then again …

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Previous Reviews:

**Indiana13:** This is an awesome story!  
I love it. Please write more Doctor Who stories.


	5. Five

**A/N: This may get a sequel ... if you're lucky. But in a while, in a disconnected sort of way. Enjoy!**

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**Two Heartbeats**

Two heartbeats.

The ultrasound had registered two heartbeats.

Either her and Mickey were having twins, or …

It didn't bear thinking about.

_Childbearing _didn't bear thinking about.

She never meant to. When she ended up here, she didn't mean to …

But she'd felt so _lonely_. And she hadn't been with him in so long …

She'd thought he was lost forever, that she'd never see him again because of Pete's world …

But now she was lost too.

Besides, _he_'d never had any problem with being bigamous.

So who could blame her for falling into Mickey's arms? For betraying _his_ feelings?

Not _him_, that was for sure.

But _he_'d never find out, either way.

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_There is the five of us now. Mum, Dad, Mickey … and the baby._

_You're not … _

Pause.

_No. _

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At least she wouldn't be lonely any more.

Then why did she still feel so alone?

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Previous Reviews:

**planet p: **This was sad, but interesting too. It would be interesting if you wrote a follow-up, maybe a story instead of a one-shot, to explain who the baby's/babies' father is, or maybe - have you seen the series with Donna? - maybe if she did have a baby/babies, what would happen after the end of the fourth series (that was the one with Donna, wasn't it? She was the Doctor's companion after Martha).  
Anyway, sad, that she was with her family again, but she still felt so alone (and seeing as she was going to have a baby).

**Katie: **This is good please write a sequel of some sorts

**Kara: **Write a sequel where in Journey's End approaches after they just beat Davros Rose pulls the doctor aside and tells him about the baby and his reaction to being lied to.

**TARDISgirl192:** So sad. Good, but sad.

**Vaya: **Excellent Please write a sequel where the doctor finds proper doctor not clone doctor finds out


	6. Six

**A/N: This recurring theme just bugs me so, so, so much. It is far too much of a coincidence, as I'm sure you'll agree. **

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****R**

Romana.

Reinette.

Rose.

River.

Looking back on his thirteen lives, the Doctor could pick out certain themes. The more serious ones like, such as words stalking him …

Bad Wolf

You Are Not Alone

… Or the ones that made him smile, like the perpetual use he found for fruit; bananas were more than just a good source of potassium, after all.

But the one 'theme' he just couldn't for the life of him shake off, was the way that the name of every woman who made him cower or laugh or shake or smoulder began with the letter 'R'. The ones he could proclaim his love for, or the one for whom those three enormous words always got stuck somewhere between his voice box and his mouth … all the same letter.

He certainly didn't know what it was about 'R'.

_Romance_, perhaps, he pondered wryly.

He knew he shouldn't pay it too much attention, but themes were always significant. Nevertheless significance was something bestowed on another when writing in that much-loved world called Literature. Oddly, it just made him feel like someone was writing his life.

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**Now review! It's just plain mean otherwise ... **


	7. Seven

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A/N: What if … the "human" Doctor had come out looking like Nine? Would that have made Rose happy?

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**"**When we first met"**

The TARDIS doors flew open and Donna rushed out, followed by a tall, leather-clad man with big ears and not much hair, brandishing a gun. He cried as Davros shot him to the ground.

Donna turned to the Doctor. "He says he's you!" She was incredulous.

Everyone was still.

"He _is _me."

Rose looked at them both. "My Doctors," she whispered, sorrowfully.

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"He was born in battle, full of blood and anger and revenge. Remind you of someone? That's me, when we first met. Exactly me."

"He's right," the new - yet old - Doctor chimed in, "And you made me better. Now you can do it again."

"But he's not _you._"

"Yes, he is. And he's better than me. He's the one you …"

"Fell in love with." Donna finished his sentence. "But don't you see, it's better than that! Go on, tell her!"

The taller, craggier Doctor turned to Rose. She looked at him properly for the first time in years. His blue eyes pierced her brain and familiarity and comfort threatened to overwhelm her - it was too much.

"I'm part human. Specifically the aging part – I'll grow old and never regenerate. I've only got one life, Rose Tyler. I can spend it with you, if you want." Rose smiled as the lilt of his Northern accent embraced the words.

"You'll … grow old at the same time as me?"

"Together." She placed her hands on his chest – his strong, intimidating chest – and felt a single heartbeat.

"But – all those memories, Doctor. All those things we did together after you regenerated … What about everything we went through?"

"He's got it all, too. Everything. Up their in his bald head."

"Watch it …"

Rose's eyes shone.

"We've got to go."

"But … it still ain't right. 'Cause, the Doctor's still … you!"

"And I was him."

"Alright, answer me this then, both of you." The two Doctors stood facing each other with her in the middle. The way it had always been.

"When I last stood here, on the worst day of my life – what was the last thing you said to me? Go on, say it!"

"I said 'Rose Tyler' …"

"Yeah, an' how was that sentence gonna end?"

"Does it need saying?"

She turned, disappointment clearly written across her tired face. "And you, Doctor?"

He bent down to her ear and whispered, "I think you need a Doctor …"

The flashback suddenly hit her, hard.

"_I am the Bad Wolf …" … "Rose, stop it! You're gonna burn!" Lips on hers, familiar but so strange and wonderful and real …_

"In other words … I love you." She was brought crashing back to reality.

She grabbed the lapels of his old leather jacket and pulled his face to hers, lips on lips, entwined once more, the way they always should have been.

The Doctor watched them sadly, then turned and walked back to the TARDIS.

"Are you alright?" Donna enquired once the doors had closed.

"You know me - I'm always alright. Besides, she's home now."

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**Everyone with me: REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW!**


	8. Eight

**A/N: I was reminded to do this from the last chapter. Siiigh … I'm so full of angst lately!**

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**Does it need saying?**

"Did I mention? I also travel in time!"

"I could save the world but lose you ..."

"Do that for me, Rose Tyler: Have a fantastic life."

"I think you need a Doctor …"

"You were fantastic! Absolutely fantastic!"

"No, not to you."

"Oh, she knows."

"I've got to sacrifice Rose …"

"I believe in _her_."

"Burning up a sun, just to say good bye."

On reflection Rose Tyler realises the Doctor was right. It never did need saying.

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**Reviewing time! I know it was a short one, but ... come on. You know you want to. **


	9. Nine

**A/N: Waheeey, so I'm apparently doing Torchwood as well, now? Set after 'Cyberwoman' but before the rest of series 1. **

**Disclaimer: I guess … I don't own TW.**

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****A Dish Served Hot**

Ianto sat in the centre of the Hub. The rest of the team were out prancing around Cardiff, playing the heroes. He was left to clean up, as usual.

Jack had asked him to come to his office that evening. Something about sorting things out, making the team okay again … Ianto didn't really want to go. He knew Jack flirted and normally he'd just play along; sweetening him up so he could spend more time with Lisa without arousing suspicion. But now what was the point? There was no reason for him to strive for a good reputation with his boss; no one to earn money for so they could be saved; no one to laugh to about it and tell them it would all be all right … it was no use.

He knew he'd go there anyway. He'd go to Jack's office and simper and cry and make like he was sorry and succumb to his false kisses and caresses. He'd end up in his arms and have him wrapped around his little finger in no time …

And then he would crush him and ruin him until it hurt worse than death, like Ianto himself had been ruined.

For the first time since Lisa before died, Ianto Jones smiled.

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**Do I need to ask?**


	10. Ten

**What Could Have Been …**

The Doctor had the whole of time and space to choose his companions from. So why were three of the most significant ones a chavvy shop-girl, a mediocre medical student and a temp from Chiswick? He _had_ met an awful lot of people, after all …

The First Doctor had bumped into Joan of Arc, sat next to her at a banquet and then asked her to come along, but she'd been too focussed on leading France to victory and had politely declined. And rightly so!

The Second Doctor went four hundred years into our future and asked the creator of the first human-cat hybrid along for a ride. Understandably, however, he'd not quite thought of it as his scene, being much more at home in a lab.

The Third Doctor had met Jane Austen, been intrigued by her feminism and eloquence and sought to show her the future. Needless to say, she was more than happy to stay in southwest England and write. The Doctor understood; he did love her novels after all.

The Fourth Doctor met a ten-year-old Winston Churchill once. He would have asked him along, but didn't really want to mess with the fate of the entire Western World. It would have been too much of an abuse of his status as a time traveller. He still regrets not asking, though.

The Fifth Doctor wanted the first ever female racing driver along with him. Unfortunately, she'd driven off before he had the time to ask. Nevertheless, he was glad he didn't as she went on to greater and speedier things.

The Sixth Doctor had been watching 'Braveheart' in the nineties, then skipped back a few centuries and found William Wallace. He'd offered him a trip to modern day Scotland, but the hero had declined reasoning that he wouldn't leave his own day until he brought about the changes he wanted himself.

The Seventh Doctor had had a run in with King Arthur, but he didn't even bother asking. He already knew the famous king would be dead within six months.

The Eighth Doctor didn't have much time to meet many characters from history, but he did once catch sight of Paul McCartney getting off a bus in Liverpool in the early sixties. He was going to chase after him, but where would the world have been without the Beatles?

The Ninth Doctor actually managed to convince Claude Monet to come along for a ride. That was, until he showed him the future where oil paints and canvas were obsolete. He hadn't been so enthusiastic after that.

The Tenth Doctor met Casanova on a spur-of-the-moment trip to Venice. He was going to ask him along, but people kept on mistaking them for twins and he thought it might get a bit confusing. He had _no_ idea why that was, though.

The truth was, these three aforementioned 'insignificant' mortals were just as great as anyone else, they just needed more room than the Earth to show it; they needed the whole universe.

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**You know your heart wants you to review, as do I, so just do it. :D**


	11. Eleven

**A/N: So, there was obviously no reciprocated romantic feelings whatsoever on the Doctor's part, but you must admit he had a little sexual tension with Martha! This explains, I guess, where this one comes from. I've edited what they say pretty much completely.**

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****Goodbye**

She knows what she's going to say to him. She's been planning it ever since he little trip around the world – no, ever since she realised her mum and dad were in danger. She's sitting in the captain's chair and mulling it over, while he sets the dials for their next destination.

"So, where to next?" He looks up hopefully at her.

"Home."

"Oh … okay." He stares at her and she has to look down, the gaze is so penetrating. She plays with her thumb nails, stretching the dry skin back – they're still calloused and worn, even though the time that happened technically didn't happen – and when she looks up again, his eyes are still burning, boring into her. "May I ask why?" he says after what seems forever.

"You know. I can't … I can't do this forever. Before, I couldn't just play second fiddle to a memory, but now … I've seen what the whole package is, and I can't do it anymore. I can't do it to them."

"Yeah," he whispers, "you were brilliant, mind. Molto bene." He smiles but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"So were you." She stands up and walks over to him. Suddenly she's too close and she's wishing she'd stayed where she was, because she doesn't want him to get the wrong impression and now he's looking at her, puzzled and she's not sure what she's doing with her hands and – God, has he always looked this _old_?

She reaches up and gives him a tentative hug, breaking the awkwardness. "I'll see you around, though!" he says.

"Not if I see you first!" she retorts, jokingly, then sees something fall in his face and immediately regrets it. "Thank you, Doctor. Thank you for _everything_."

"Your welcome." She feels irritated that he doesn't return the favour.

And that's when she remembers why she's leaving him.

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**You know what to do by now ...**


	12. Twelve

**This is inspired by the new pictures of Billie Piper filming for Dr. Who ... I know, back again! You'd think we'd be getting bored by now!**

**(Well, at least most of us are.)**

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He rose from the floor of the TARDIS, head aching.

His head always ached.

He wished he wasn't alone this time ... he'd been so fond of his old body, so fond of its energy and wiryness; it would have been nice to have someone with him, someone to say goodbye to.

He looked in the mirror.

_Well ... It could be worse ... I could be - _bald - _again. And at least my hair's still pretty fantastic!_

He stumbled out into the street. Where had he landed? He didn't even realise he'd been driving the thing!

Snow covered the street, falling from the sky like dust. He stood, bewildered.

Two women were walking down the road, arguing. They both had blonde hair - although one was clearly older - and visibly resembled one another.

His heart skipped a beat. Would he ever escape her? This effervescent, caring girl. He was tormented by her, propped half way between heaven and hell for her.

"Rose!" he shouted.

"Do I know you?" She looked distinctly confused, although not altogether unimpressed ... Something wasn't right here.

"It's m - Hold on, what year is it?"

"Are you mental?" Jackie chimed in. "Blimey, drunk already and it's only six o'clock!"

"Well, it is Christmas after all!" Rose beamed. "It's two thousand and four. Well ... nearly two thousand and five, if you're being picky, but ... Are you okay?"

The Doctor gulped. "I'm always okay." He reached out and stroked her arm. _God, this feels so _natural ... He swallowed again. "You're going to have a fantastic year, Rose Tyler!" He turned and pelted in the opposite direction.

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"You do get some weirdoes this time of year ..."

"Oh, shut up, mum."

Rose stared after the strange man. She couldn't place it, but she had the strangest feeling she'd seen him before.

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	13. Thirteen

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The bar slips from my hand, like sand through a timer and I try and think it was worth it, just to have been there all along, but then a paralysis grips me and I realise; _I'm only twenty. I'm too young to die._ How is it that some people are allowed nine hundred years when others of us only get two decades? I wish the timer would reverse but I know it's too late, too great for that now as I look at my mate and wonder if he knows it too.

And he's yelling and his eyes are so wide I think they'll pop out, right into the sky. But he's baring his teeth and I'm staring at him and neither of us seems to know what's happening (but the reality is all too real) and as I fall, I think to him, "_Well, if it had to happen, at least I'm looking at you._"

As I plummet to my death - my last breath, the end of the earth - and I scream and my scream mingles with his, I finally realise that Mickey was right.

A list of the dead follows him around and sooner or later, I have ended up there.

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	14. Fourteen

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He always thought the whole only-one-heart business would be the worst thing to get used to. But he didn't reckon on what being stuck in one place would do to him.

First came the silence.

Him and Rose, Rose and him. Always together but never really speaking. It was always Jackie, finding activities for them to do, to keep them occupied so they wouldn't realise what a bloody mess the Doctor had left them in.

Because it was alright for him; he got this magnificent, poetic, tragic life; a life without Rose, where he could sit and sigh and mourn the fact that he had to be selfless.

But the Doctor knew _nothing_ about hardship. Nothing at all.

Hardship was the gritty reality of realising that human error is the worst of all. Or rather, _Time Lord_ error, on such a grand scale as this. Hardship for them was having to wake up every day, both of them knowing that neither had what they really wanted.

"But he's not _you._"

He'd never forget the way her voice cracked when she said that to the Doctor.

And she was right; he _wasn't _him. He didn't have a TARDIS, he didn't have two hearts, he needed to sleep and eat and rest and do all the things he never had to before. Not to mention his new fangled Cockney accent.

And as for him ... well, being grounded was as terrible as he'd always imagined. Waking up day after day in the same room, house, town, country ... on the same _planet._ The claustrophobia was killing him. He needed space - but how much space was enough? Another country, another planet?

Another universe?

He thought often of his old universe, the one where this whole mess began.

But it wasn't always a mess. Him and Rose, Rose and him.

It used to be beautiful. He used to love her.

He _used _to love her.

He tries to tell himself he still does. That she's the reason he should stay here.

But he can't. She can't be bothered to even pretend that he, the consollation prize, is good enough. So why should he?

Then came the anger.

He used to be so _controlled_. He only ever raised his voice to the tyrants and the villains, to the ones who had killed or maimed or tortured. He soon found himself raising his voice to her, shouting and yelling through his frustration.

When he couldn't raise his voice any more he raised his fist.

It only slammed down on the table, but the gesture was still there.

The _Doctor_ would never have become violent towards a woman - he was a pacifist! So maybe he wasn't even the Doctor any more?

He doesn't know who he is.

Then come the tears. Every time he looks at her, touches her shoulder, tries to comfort her or say sorry, she dissolves into tears. The worst thing is that this lamentation was often accompanied by protestations that it wasn't his fault. She just misses Mickey, she just wanted to talk to Jack ... she skirts around the elephant in the room.

She just wants to talk to the _Doctor._

But he is the Doctor. So why can't she talk to him?

He doesn't know what he should have expected. That she'd love him? They'd get married, have children, the works? That everything that came before would just be an amusing tale to tell the kids about how mummy and daddy met?

It just didn't work like that. How could either of them ever forget Before?

He should have known that tying Rose down in this world would be a disaster... almost as bad as tying himself down. Maybe, just maybe, if they could emulate something of Before ...?

It's with shaking hands and a sweaty forehead that he knocks on her bedroom door with a cup of tea and the words, "Do you want to go travelling?"

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	15. Fifteen

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**I thought this was a dead cert for what would happen at the end of this "series" of Torchwood! Oh well.**

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Stephen stood rooted to the ground, mouth open and paralysed, the ultrasonic waves stemming from the wide gaping hole that he would have once called a mouth. The blood trickled down his face in black, inky trails. His grandfather wished so desperately to be able to wipe it off, to give him a little dignity before he fried.

Jack had to close off his mind to allow himself to do this, to _murder_ his own flesh and blood. He ignored the animal screams of his daughter, pounding on the glass until her fists were raw; how else could he keep on pushing those buttons and dials?

In a climax of screams Stephen crumpled to the floor in a lifeless lump, his arms swinging uselessly like those of a ragdoll and for just a moment, there was complete and utter silence - the calm before the storm, a second of peace before the pandemonium.

Noise, flashes, people shouting and calling. His mother cradled his dead body, tears no longer streaming from her exhausted eyes.

And all Jack could do was stand there and watch.

Suddenly Stephen gasped and his eyes flew open. He coughed twice.

And then came the calm again.

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"If you think, for one second, that everything's all right now ... what you did before, I will _never _forgive you." Alice's eyes are a storm, not only because she now realises that maybe all those "lucky escapes" from her childhood were something more akin to immortality.

"I know."

"He may have lived ... but you never knew that. He very easily might not have done. He might forget this, but I _never_ will."

He couldn't even look her in the eye as he ran along the corridor, out of sight.

He didn't stop running until he reached the sea.

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End file.
